


Dandelion Veins

by Lightning of Farosh (orphan_account)



Series: Golden, Hollow Myths [2]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Zelda II: The Adventure of Link
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Found Family, Gen, Morally Ambiguous Character, Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22251214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lightning%20of%20Farosh
Summary: They were cut from the same cloth; a Hero who was a hopeless romantic that believed romance was hopeless, and the other who let the anvil of danger and the hammer of violence shape him into something that was kind.But they were still heroes, blood-soaked with wanderlust and full of desperation that tomorrow would be better.
Relationships: Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe)
Series: Golden, Hollow Myths [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601809
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	Dandelion Veins

“Sorry,” the man in purple said, not bothering to look at the map in Link’s hand or at the way frustration melted into thinly veiled anger. “But I am much too busy to talk to a stranger.”

 _You and everyone else in this Hylia forsaken place,_ Link wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut as the man continued on. The town—if it could even be called that—was bustling with what few people dared to venture out of their homes. They passed him by with hurried footsteps, hands guarding baskets of groceries, eyes on the sky.

There was an old smell of musty wood and smoke in the air. It left a rotten taste on the back of his tongue.

Link sighed and blew his dyed, pink hair away from his face, eyes darting one more time over his crinkled, folded map. It was an old bit of parchment that had been folded too many times. Ink ran in the corners from rain and tears and sweat while splatters of red-brown dotted the edges. 

The castle to the south. Kakariko to the west. Death Mountain to the north.

He glanced up at the mountains in the distance framing the plains the little village sat in and rolled his eyes.

This is what he got for walking through a portal with no idea where it might lead. At least it had been kind enough to dump him in a patch of empty farmland instead of, say, the middle of the sea. 

“Oh!” A kind, elderly voice spoke up as it passed him by. “Hello, young fellow!”

Link nodded automatically. “Hello,” he said and looked up at the sun to track how much daylight he had left. If he started now there was enough time to maybe run into a few travellers that might know more than some useless villagers—

 _Wait._ The world choked on itself, catching beneath his feet like a rabbit in a trap. Link whirled on his heel, staring at the back of the hunched old woman.

She walked with a cane and picked her footsteps carefully through mud and crowd. A basket rested in the curve of her arm that looked as though it would drag her into the road at any moment with just its weight. Wrapped around her grey hair was a faded, blue scarf; it helped shield her wrinkled skin from the tireless heat of the sun.

Shaking away his thoughts, Link jogged to catch up. “W-wait! Please wait! Ma’am—” he almost tripped over his own feet, stumbling to a stop at her side. “I’m sorry to bother you; I—” With a firm swallow, Link released his pride and smiled sheepishly. “I’m a bit lost.”

Her eyes were green and warm like Hyrule Field. Smile lines had been drawn around her lips and crow’s feet were etched so deep in her skin they must have been fate. Holes littered her hand made shawl, dirt staining the old wool and colour drifting away from multiple washes. “Well,” she said. “I haven’t left this town in quite some time, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“‘ _Thank_ you,” Link breathed, offering a smile instead of his useless map. “I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of the castle and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“The castle?” she said, kind face dropping a bit in confusion and sadness. “I’m afraid there hasn’t been a castle in quite some time.”

 _Oh_. Link’s shoulders dropped. _Well, shit._

“But there is a North Palace. Perhaps that’s what you’re looking for?”

Link perked up. “Uh, yes! Yes, I— _sure_. The North Palace.”

She patted his arm with a cold, weathered hand and laughed at the earnest expression on his face. “Now, now,” her voice was still warm and settled in his bones in ways only his uncle’s had, “unfortunately, I don’t know exactly where it is, but if you speak to Maura I’m sure she’ll be able to help you out.”

 _Maura_ , Link thought, doing his best to commit it to memory, _Maura_. “Thank you,” he said, “That’s—” More than he had gotten in an hour of asking everyone else in this god forsaken place. “—Very helpful.” His gaze passed over her basket of groceries. “Would you like any help?”

“Oh!” she blinked and followed his eyes. “Oh, no, lad. But that’s very kind of you.”

“If you’re sure,” Link smiled in the same way that made Zelda roll her eyes but had gotten a few of the maidens to blush. “It would be my pleasure in return for all your help.”

Her laughter rang through the street. “You _are_ a charming young man,” she said and offered her basket. “Very well.”

Taking it, Link hoisted it over a shoulder and offered his unoccupied arm. She looped her own free one through it and leaned some of her weight off her cane and against his side. He offered a makeshift shield against the bustle of the city, lowering a sharp glare at anyone who looked as though they were on a collision course.

They scuttled out of his way, eyeing the sword at his side and the shield strapped to his back.

“And what,” gentle words tugged Link away from his thoughts and he focused on her fingers against his forearm, “is the name of my escort?”

“Link,” he said.

“Ah,” Her voice was a simple breath; more sound than formed words. “How interesting,” she mused more to herself than to him. “You’re the second Link I’ve met this month.”

oOo

Maura was the healer and her home was a place that looked as though it had faced literal fire and had come out standing. Scorch marks worked their way up the walls, the sign was a tad lopsided, but there were potted plants in the windows and the door swung open when Link tried it.

The inside was packed full of bottles, drying herbs, and other things. Rolled bandages were stacked in a pyramid, small bowls with grinding stones sat by the counter, and ointments lined every available surface. A woman peeked out from behind a different door leading further into the building, her dark hair tied back into a braid, eyes shadowed by long nights.

Maura, he guessed.

“Be with you in just a second!” She called and vanished.

Link clicked his tongue, ducking beneath a woven basket and it’s crawling, ivy-like plant. Potions sat on the far wall, their prices scribbled on a small bit of parchment that had been yellowed by the sun sneaking through the window.

 _Two for ten rupees_.

“Sorry about the wait,” Maura stepped into the shop, brushing her hair over her shoulder. There was some mint-green paste clinging to her fingernails. “How can I help you?”

Link held up the sign. “Is this right?”

She glanced between the paper and the potions, and winced. “Yes, unfortunately.”

 _Unfortunately?_ Link stared down at the red and blue liquids. It was the cheapest he’s ever seen a damn potion in his entire _life_.

“—I know it’s a bit expensive, but there’s been no news of supplies from Bagu so I don’t know when the next batch will be—”

“I’ll take all of them,” Link cut her off, gathering up the ten vials he could see. The magic potions were listed as the same price so he snatched those as well, bringing them all to her counter.

Wide, blue eyes blinked and Maura clasped her hands in front of her chest. Her blue apron was patched several times in different places, the ties made from entirely different fabric.

Link bit down on his back teeth, remembering the man who had been dressed in purple noble clothes that had the _gall_ to look down his nose and refuse to help while an elderly woman who had no one else to assist her with her damn _groceries_ had given him a passing ‘hello’. 

He thought of armoured knights under the control of a magicked king, of the rich who stepped on the poor, of working his hands in a blacksmith’s forge just to put food on a own table.

(And then he wondered how he looked with his crimson and green tunic embroidered with gold sigils, his Pegasus boots, and the gleaming, Noble Sword strapped to his side. It might be armour and strength, but it was expensive and the gleam of used rupees dripped off his presence like oil off a broken lantern.)

Swallowing down the anger that burned like bile in the back of his throat, Link motioned to the vials. “What else do you have?”

“I—” Maura fumbled, looking down at the potions for a moment before shaking herself out of her own thoughts and straightening her spine. “Well, I suppose that depends on what you’re looking for. I have first aid supplies, pain killers, muscle relaxants—”

Link pointed with his thumb towards where the potions had sat. “What about things for the road?”

She brushed past him, all herbs and spices that stung the end of his nose. “Do you travel a lot?”

“More than most.”

Maura’s hum was small; nothing more than a vibration in the back of her throat. She dug through some of the dented salve containers, muttering to herself before pulling out two. “Here,” she said. “Only one other traveller passes through this town, but he says that this helps keep his skin from cracking in the drier airs.”

Link unscrewed the top and sniffed it.

Lotion.

He added it to the counter, listening as she moved on to show him pain relievers and wound helpers, disinfectant and water purifiers. The pile on the counter grew taller until Maura had shown him what felt like every single product she had.

“One more thing,” Link said as she started tallying up his total.

Maura looked up from her paper and pen. “Yes?”

“Do you happen to know how to get to the North Palace?”

Not long later, Link left the shop. Bag heavier, wallet lighter, and head full of tales about another hero with a magical sword named Link, he headed west to the docks in order to find someone who was willing to take him to Mido.

oOo

A boy in a torn tunic sat on the edge of a lake. There was a taste of copper in his mouth, splatters of mud on his face, and dirt smeared across his skin while he looked into the swirling, dark waters. Grass stretched around him; pale and dry. It turned him into nothing but a tiny figure surrounded by vastness.

Ancient vastness. Endless vastness. Bright, beautiful, _chaotic_ vastness.

(Somewhere in the past there was a dirty child with a dented shield. He bested the monsters that surrounded an old woman so she gave him a destiny.

On the darkest of the cold nights, the Hero of Hyrule, went hunting for that child. He vanished into the depths of the woods and the caverns of Death Mountain, scoured the beaches and unmarked gravestones hoping he would find any clue that had been left behind.

He always returned empty handed.)

Blue, orange, and pink flowers grew along the bank, creating a recently grown dawn. It was wondrous and new and full of crystallized, fragile hope the boy didn’t dare touch less it burn beneath his fingers.

To the east was the fragile, corpse-like town of Nabooru.

To the north sat the mountain range that blocked off Darunia from old, torn open farm land.

Closing his eyes, the boy tilted his head up towards the sky. A breeze brushed his bangs away from his face as he leaned over the side of the lake.

It smelled of ashes. Of roasted meat. Of vengeance and hunters and magic.

The waterfowl clucked back at him, whispering, _do you see it, yet?_

Reeds whistling in the wind caught against his trousers. _Taste the air,_ they told him, _do you feel the echo of ancient energy? Can you sense it breaking and becoming? This world learns of suffering and beauty over and over again_.

As the boy stood from the bank of the river, sunlight glinted off the shield strapped to his back.

In the middle of the mosaic of dawn-coloured flowers, he became the sun.

oOo

Link hated the new world after only an hour of travel. It was full of nothing but corpses and unmarked graveyards, of overgrown paths and twisting weeds. He stumbled through the broken remains of a ranch and cursed as the remains of a shattered fence drew jagged lines in his knees.

“‘Go west’,” Link mimicked, kicking out at a rock. It clanged, hitting something metallic. “That’s very helpful; ‘ _go west’_.” He snorted, “ _Please_.”

Pausing, he ripped off his hat and ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair. The sun was at his back, watching his progress with uncaring eyes. Rot clung to the air, heavy like an invisible fog even though he hadn’t seen anything but clusters of mushrooms and the occasional animal carcass. It smelled like Lorule, like the dark world, like the burning remains of Ganon.

Link tugged his hat back on and wiped his nose. “This place is the worst,” he told a passing dragonfly. The land was too big with no roads and no signs. It was the perfect place to get lost.

He _hated_ it. He _loved_ it. He wanted to drown in the grasslands and burn them to the ground for any sign of life besides insects and rats.

The dragonfly buzzed and darted away, disappearing into the foliage.

Dragging his hands down his face, Link stretched out his shoulders. There were some scattered forms in the distance—maybe houses, maybe trees, he couldn’t tell—but it was _something_ other than this never ending field of nothing. He breathed in and started walking, settling back into an easy travelling pace that had carried him through six other journeys. 

The sun dipped further down on the horizon, threatening him with darkness, but he didn’t notice his shadow stretching out behind him like the tail end of a kite.

Link’s eyes were on the sky for a different reason.

His feet slowed at the sight of black smoke, as the rot and the ashes and absence of life started to fill in the empty holes the puzzle had been missing. It created an eclipse in the sky, swallowing the rest of the day.

It was already a land of ruin, of scarred landscape, but this...

He stumbled on the edge of a massacre; plants burnt to nothing, a tree blackened by fire. Pikes stood in a half circle facing out to the west, each of them topped by an oozing beast head. Some were moblins—their dog mouths gaping, pink tongue rolling out—others were lizard-like with long, pointed jaws filled with teeth. Lizalfos looking, but bigger, stronger.

Abandoned axes, swords, and shields were stacked into a smothering pile, the metal blackened and wooden handles burned to charcoal. Some hands were still grasping the weapons, left there to rot in a very clear warning to anything else that dared to try and come near this place.

In the middle of it all was a pyre, stacked with burnt monster bodies. Dark, oily smoke rose from the still burning flames, drifting towards the sky. Link covered his nose, hiding his grimace as he used the tip of his own sword to search through the remains.

No people were hidden beneath the mess. This was deliberate. This was a _hunt_.

Link pulled away. “Hello?” He called out over the skeletal remains of the land.

Even the wind stayed silent.

 _Hylia_ , Link shook his head, stepped carefully over broken stone, and kept walking. He scoured the land with new eyes, watching for any faint shift in the grass, ears upright and listening for any slight sound.

Behind him, the sun dropped lower and lower, bored of his adventure and settling down to sleep. It turned the sky gold, dipping the tips of the grass into blazing, untouched light. Shadows mixed, reaching to the horizon line and creating a trail that was quickly swallowed by the rest of the world.

Link didn’t dig out his lantern until the sky was dark and the shades of twilight had vanished, leaving nothing but him, the moon, and the stars. He didn’t stop to make camp, choosing to keep walking until exhaustion deemed that he couldn’t go any further.

That wouldn’t be for a while, though, so Link watched his step and continued west. His lantern became its own little sun, attracting moths and buzzing insects that worshipped the small flame inside. He left them be and watched a shooting star pass overhead. It vanished into the void of space, taking his unspoken wish with it.

An hour passed until trees started to form out of the shadows. One here, another there, a patch some ways away. He headed over, holding his lantern up to check the spattering of bushes. They were just tall enough to maybe block the sight of a small fire.

Link reached out to hang his lantern on a tree branch, ready to shrug off his pack, and saw something pale vanish into the darkness.

He stilled and, with slow, careful movements, looked up.

A boy sat in the tree, face caked with drying mud that peeled away like snakeskin. He looked caught in an age between maturity and childhood, eyes wide and peering out from the night. They shone with old war-songs and blood offerings to a goddess who didn’t want such things anymore but never told him otherwise.

The hilt of a sword peeked over his shoulder, pommel embedded in rubies that looked as if they, too, were watching Link’s every move.

They stared at each other for five, thunderous heartbeats.

(He thought of burnt bodies and heads on pikes. Of ashes and discarded weapons. Of building remains and almost empty towns.)

“What are you doing out here, kid?” He had been a child when fate had tugged at his life like it was nothing more than puppet strings, but this kid was stained by impossible dreams and godless places.

The boy’s eyes darted towards where the road vanished into the trees, combing the darkness that settled across the plains before coming back. He didn’t say anything but his nails dug into bark and his legs shifted so his feet were beneath him.

“You lost?” Link tried. “I’m trying to find my way to the docks.”

“Why?” The kid’s voice was rough around the edges like a rusty sword left out in the rain for years and years; disused and abandoned. 

Link blinked. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to go to the docks?”

 _Hylia, what was this? Twenty fucking questions?_ “Why are you in a tree?”

The boy tilted his head to the side, hair looking more bush like now that Link realized it was full of leaves and twigs. There was a darkening bruise blossoming along the left side of his face and potions hanging from his belt. “Why aren’t _you_ in a tree?”

“I,” Link motioned to himself with a single, dramatic gesture, “just got here.”

“I,” the kid returned, echoing his tone while trying—and failing—to hide a small, amused smile, “was here first. So it’s mine.”

Damn brat was _enjoying_ this. Link flung his pack next to his lantern and hoisted himself into the tree. His boots caught on bark and it took more effort than it should before he was sitting across the kid. “Funny,” Link said, hiding how winded he actually was. _Good thing I skipped out on that apple farming business_. “I don’t see your name carved anywhere.”

Settling back, the boy straddled the bough and turned himself upside down, reaching for the glowing lantern.

“What are you—?”

He turned it off, flooding them with the night. Silver light drifted through the leaves, but shadows formed upon shadows, coming out of nothing to make a grab at his arms and legs.

“I’m surprised you haven’t been attacked already, wandering around with that light.”

The voice came out of nothing and Link blinked, hoping to make shapes out of the darkness. Each blink ripped away more and more of the veil, but he could still only make out the slight curve of a nose and the pointed tips of ears. “I don’t think anything,” he started slowly, testing the waters with careful words, “would have the guts to attack anyone after that mess you left out east.”

Air hissed as it was sliced and Link lurched back as fingers grasped his collar, pulling him forward.

“Hey—!”

Steel pressed against his throat.

Link froze.

An ear popping silence settled between them as an audience of crickets chirped cheerfully between the tree roots. They cheered for the promise of blood, waiting impatiently in the grass.

There was no tremor in the hand that held the blade. This kid—whoever he was (though Link had a pretty good idea)—had a spine that was as solid as the tree they sat in.

“Monster hunting’s a dangerous job,” Link said, making sure his voice was even and cheerful.

The dagger stayed where it was.

“Did you do it all on your own?”

It pressed harder, not cutting. Not yet. _What’s it to you?_

Link licked his lips and thought over his words. Bark dug into his thighs, scraping against his skin, and he remembered the look on Maura’s face as he handed over two hundred rupees, the smile on the old woman’s lips when he offered to carry her groceries home.

This was a land of loneliness, of war-torn youths, and dried blood sticking to bruised knuckles. It was a place where parents rubbed ashes into their faces to wipe away their memories and the earth baked bread to fill the silence, waiting for the rain so it could believe in things like flowers and miracles again.

“Two days ago,” Link said, “I fought a man who was foolish enough to try and combine his magic with a demon prince that called himself Ganon. Today, I found a dark portal surrounded by slaughtered animals and walked through it only to find myself here.”

Fabric shifted against bark. Breath hitched in a throat.

The blade remained steady.

“My name is Link,” he said and, in the darkness by his hand, there was a spark of golden light. “Slayer of Ganon, Wielder of the Triforce of Courage, and Hero of Hyrule.”

An answering glow appeared across from him, lighting up the boy’s widening eyes. They both looked down as he lifted his hand, revealing the pulsing, gold triangle. It faded from both of them just as quickly and the dagger retreated, slowly, from Link’s throat.

He sighed and it was a sound of bone deep relief and soulful exhaustion. “You wouldn’t happen to know why I’m here, would you?”

“Why are you asking me?” The boy said, humour bleeding through his words. “You’re the one who stepped through a portal.”

Link put his head in his hands and groaned.


End file.
